


in nebraska, you can still be happy

by ijustmightwing



Series: i'm coming home (tell the world) [4]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Hood/Arsenal (Comics), Red Hood: Lost Days
Genre: All The Tropes, Apologies to Nebraska, Body Dysphoria, Canon-Typical Violence, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Memory Loss, Minor Roy Harper/Koriand'r, Pam is a new PFLAG grandma, Past Drug Addiction, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sharing a Bed, Snowed In
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:14:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28328082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ijustmightwing/pseuds/ijustmightwing
Summary: “I don’t even know why you’re upset,” Jason said, grunting as Roy helped him lean against the bathroom sink. “I’m the one who was stabbed.”Jason and Roy take on a shady government contract, get snowed in on Christmas, and one thing leads to another.
Relationships: Koriand'r & Jason Todd, Roy Harper/Jason Todd
Series: i'm coming home (tell the world) [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2073099
Comments: 26
Kudos: 187





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This work is part of a series. It might not make sense without the other pieces, but you live your life!
> 
> We've finally arrived at the first part of the story proper. I have enough planned for at least 60k after this, but it's Christmas and we all deserve some kisses and explicit sexual content so I'm throwing caution to the wind and posting now!

**in nebraska, you can still be happy: one**

“I officially hate Nebraska,” Roy said as they stumbled into the hotel room together, arm tight around Jason’s waist to support his weight. “Don’t tell Clark.”

“You’re thinking of Kansas, moron,” Jason answered, hissing through his teeth as Roy helped him shuffle inside, trying to not get too much blood on the carpet. He kept still as Roy divested him of his helmet and guns, dropping them on the nearest bed along with his own gear before returning to help get Jason to the bathroom.

The mission had gone well, all things considered. Tara Battleworth had needed a team to recover stolen military information from Cale-Anderson Pharmaceuticals. She wouldn’t say why, but Jason had known those secrets included a very volatile recipe for some sort of crazy super serum that could make metahumans. Her information lined up with vague rumors Jason had heard over the years about Cale-Anderson, which made it easy to narrow down the quiet town of Hastings, Nebraska as the likeliest winner to house some mad scientists. 

Roy had at first been thrilled to take on what he dubbed “Big Pharma,” but then less-than-pleased when he realized the military was working on dangerous drugs to use on their own soldiers and didn’t want anyone to know about it. 

Jason was far less idealistic. If it was up to him he’d bomb Cale-Anderson, leak the info, and let chaos reign. He was more likely to eat his helmet than trust in the government, but Roy’s determined hope was insufferably persuasive. It’s what had him acquiesce to this harebrained scheme in the first place, legitimacy. Jason knew this entire Rent-A-Bat fever dream was wrapped up in Roy’s constant need for redemption, and he’d kept his lips shut as Roy weighed the scales of justice inside himself. 

There had been a moment there, just a flash, where Jason thought Roy was going to say no. He could see the instant Roy’s precious ideals clashed with his desire to be a legitimate hero, to be  _ good _ . 

_ It turns out working for legitimate companies and governments didn’t mean you weren’t working for criminals _ , Jason could have said. But he hadn’t. 

Maybe he should have. 

At least the job was a simple one: to get the hard drive, get out, and return it to their contact with no one the wiser. Espionage wasn’t exactly Jason’s strongest suit, at least not with something so white collar, but Roy could hack and break into basically any building given enough time. 

However, they hadn’t had quite enough time for Roy to get them in  _ and  _ out without security catching on, which meant Jason had fended off armed guards while Roy fucked around on a computer wearing a pilfered labcoat like it somehow made him invisible. Unbelievable.

“I don’t even know why you’re upset,” Jason said, grunting as Roy helped him lean against the bathroom sink. “I’m the one who was stabbed.”

Roy winced, giving Jason an apologetic smile as he disentangled himself and went for the medkit in the other room. “Lady at the desk said there was a blizzard moving in. Said maybe the airport would shut down for a day or two,” Roy explained as Jason sat down heavily on the lid of the toilet seat, awkwardly trying to untie his shoes with his one good arm. He accomplished undoing the laces on his left boot before giving up.

“So?” he asked. A blizzard wasn’t necessarily bad news. It meant a delay in returning to D.C. to hand off the recovered hard drive, but Tara hadn’t said the mission was particularly time sensitive. 

Roy came back into the bathroom, medkit in hand. “Well, I don’t think either of us will be home in time for Christmas, Jaybird,” Roy said, settling cross-legged on the cold tile. He batted Jason’s hand away and went to work getting Jason’s boots and socks off, checking the ankle he’d been favoring. It was bruised and swollen, but nothing seemed broken or even sprained. 

Roy took a cold pack out of the medkit and cracked it, strapping it to the injured ankle with some gauze. Jason winced, not only at the ankle, but at the thought of missing Christmas. Jason wasn’t a particularly festive person and being in close proximity to Bruce for long stretches of time made him want to scream, but Jason liked Christmas because it meant spending long hours baking in the kitchen with Alfred. 

Christmas was really Alfred’s holiday, and there was nothing in the world that felt as good as making Alfred happy. Jason’s role was to help Alfred with all the baking and washing up. It was for Jason’s benefit, mostly. Occasionally Dick or one of the others would flit through, usually stopping to steal cookies here and there and Jason could catch up one-on-one instead of being overwhelmed by what felt like a thousand Bats at once. 

The others had tasks as well. Dick was always in charge of the lights because it gave him an excuse to hang from chandeliers and dangle off the roof, usually in tandem with Cass. The first year at the manor Damian had announced he would be taking over Christmas tree decoration due to a lack of  _ uniform ornament distribution _ and Stephanie, insulted, had shouted  _ over my merry fuckin’ dead body _ and now there were two trees in Wayne Manor every year. 

Tim, ever vicious, always organized the annual snowball fight by building what Jason would call an  _ obstacle course _ and normal people would describe as a  _ deathtrap _ on the grounds. Jason had almost won last year, beaten out at the buzzer by Cass when she dropped out of the trees like an avenging angel and spiked him into a snowbank. Jason had already planned on recruiting the new kid, Duke, to get her back this year. 

Bruce didn’t participate much, but on Christmas Eve he and Alfred would retreat to the study with snifters of brandy to wrap presents. Bruce filled each stocking himself, noticeable only because the few trinkets inside were always wrapped with a little less polish than Alfred’s flawless packaging. Bruce always included an orange in each stocking, a holdover from Dick’s first Christmas in the manor after he’d learned it had been a Grayson family tradition. 

“Arms out, Jaybird,” Roy said, bringing him back to the moment. Jason wondered what happened in the Queen household on Christmas. 

“If you want,” he offered instead, gingerly shrugging off his jacket one arm at a time with Roy’s help, “I’m sure we could convince one of the Supers to get you home, if y’know, you wanted.”

Roy wrinkled his nose, smiling thinly as he looked at Jason’s bloodstained jacket. “That’s nice, Jaybird, but I’m not particularly religious. I just hate snow,” he said. “Besides, every year Ollie and Dinah sing ‘Santa Baby.’” Roy paused, catching Jason’s grimace. “And yes, they dress up.”

“My Aunt Kate is Jewish, you could ask her how to convert,” Jason said with a wry smile. 

Roy snorted, easily undoing the safety on Jason’s body armor and lifting it away. Once the pressure from the armor abated Jason felt another wave of blood sluice down his left side. The stab wound ran from the outside of Jason’s collarbone and over the curve of his shoulder. It was deep but not deadly, and he probably wouldn’t have great range of motion in that arm for at least a few days. Jason healed faster than he used to, and he wasn’t sure if he should attribute that to the Pit or the All-Caste’s training.

“I’m going to have to cut this off,” Roy murmured, eyeing the wound. He drew a knife from his belt and flicked it open, pausing as he looked up at Jason’s face. “Ready?” he asked gently, reaching for the hem of Jason’s shirt.

“It’s just a shirt, Harper” Jason said, his scornful tone trying to cover up his discomfort. Roy grinned, offering Jason a teasing wink as he lifted the fabric to slide the knife underneath. Jason tensed as he felt the cool blade against his skin, but held still as Roy easily cut up and through to the collar. 

It wasn’t that Jason was shy, exactly, or ashamed of how he looked, it was more complicated. 

When he was younger, especially when he had been Robin, Jason had been so in tune with his body even Bruce had remarked upon it. Jason had always been physically intuitive if nothing else, moved to action before his mind could catch up. It made him a talented fighter, reckless and creative, if not a fancy one like Dick. That effortless connection was still there, proven with each fight he had as Red Hood. 

However, seeing his actual body, or having it be seen wasn’t the same as when he’d been an uncaring fifteen. When Jason had finally woken up he’d been eight inches taller than he’d remembered, powerful in the way he’d always hoped he’d be but never thought he could achieve. 

He remembered looking in a mirror and seeing a stranger before him, like Frankenstein’s monster come to life. 

Most of his childhood scars were gone, erased by the Pit, but it hadn’t been able to quite heal the deep Y-incision down his chest and belly. There were light patches on his back that were probably once flashburns. He didn’t remember getting either of them, nor the white fringe in his hair. Talia had pointed out the faint, crude smiley-face carved on the back of his neck. 

Jason remembered getting that one.

There was a loud tearing sound followed by a sharp pain in his chest. Jason’s eyes flew open at the shock, not realizing he’d shut them. He growled.

“Sorry, sorry,” Roy said, wadding up the remnants of Jason’s shirt before tossing it in the garbage, following up with an apologetic smile. “There was not going to be a fun way to do that. Okay, now shift a little.”

Jason grit his teeth and let Roy move him until he had enough space to work in the cramped hotel bathroom. Roy was very good at stitching someone up, which was unsurprising given his background and chosen weapon. He had long, sure fingers and a steady hand. 

It almost made up for the way he unceremoniously poured rubbing alcohol over Jason’s chest and bare arm without any warning.

“Fucking,  _ fuck _ you,” Jason hissed as the disenfectant washed over the wound, the blinding pain making him gasp helplessly for a moment as his lungs seized.

“Promises, promises,” Roy said fondly, tearing open a packet of painkillers and pushing them into Jason’s good hand. Jason popped them obediently in his mouth, grimacing at the chalky taste as he swallowed. Roy frowned, then immediately filled a glass with water and handed it to him. “For the blood loss, tough guy.”

Jason rolled his eyes, but still drank anyway, focusing on taking long, slow slips as Roy set to work on the gash in his shoulder. They sat in silence for awhile, Jason finishing his water with Roy hunched awkwardly above him. 

“It’s strange what you can get used to,” Roy said conversationally. He jutted his chin towards Jason’s shoulder. Jason turned his head slightly, glancing down at the wound. Roy’s fingers were bone white against the red-stained flesh, his right hand holding the ragged skin together in a tight seam. The pressure of keeping the wound closed was more uncomfortable than Roy’s steady needlework, but Jason welcomed it, grounded by it as the adrenaline buzzed through him.

Patch-up jobs like this reminded Roy of tattoos, he’d explained once. Jason took his word for it. Jason didn’t particularly care for pain in any form, but he understood how Roy could enjoy this weird, glassy feeling that came along with it.

“I guess,” Jason offered as the needle dipped in again. He could tell Roy was looking at the autopsy scar on his chest and held back a shudder. It wasn’t the first time Roy had seen it, but never as close and for such a prolonged period of time.

Jason didn’t blame him for looking--sometimes it was hard for him to look away too. Roy’s green eyes held a hint of shame in them, flicking up to look at Jason and then back down. An unspoken tension was in the air, but instead of giving in to his defensiveness Jason forced himself to to address it. 

It was always easy to be brave when Roy was around.

“You can ask, if you want. Almost everyone does,” Jason said, raising a hand to touch the center of the scar so there could be no confusion as to what they were talking about. It wasn’t a difficult conversation for him, really. His answer to almost every question was the same.

_ Did it hurt? _ I don’t know.

_ What did it feel like, dying? _ I don’t know.

_ What comes after...after we…?  _ I don’t know.

Roy looked back up at him through pale lashes. There was a lot of blonde in Roy, though it could have been leftover from the island sun. Jason hoped not. It worked for him, given those big, green eyes. Jason stared at them now, not one to back down. Roy had taken his hat off and wisps of hair were escaping his hasty half-ponytail. There was a small smear of Jason’s blood on his chin.

“No offense, Jaybird,” Roy said softly, in that comforting tone Jason hated when almost any other person used it, “But I’m pretty sure this one is pretty self-explanatory.” He reached down and tapped the back of Jason’s hand, still in the center of his chest. 

Jason smiled, rueful and mildly surprised. Maybe even relieved.

Roy grinned back, moving his hand to touch a small scar halfway down his torso on Jason’s left side. “Actually, I was remembering this one.” Roy dipped his head, leaning in close so he could reach an arm behind Jason’s back, hand brushing the matching scar there. Jason breathed harshly through his nose, realization storming in.

Jason remembered the train. Vaguely. He had been half-mad with pain that night, not quite recovered from his showdown with Bruce in the warehouse and the following explosion. It had taken Selina three tries and two sets of stitches to close up the wound on his neck. She had been nearby when the building came down, hot on the trail of a black market art deal. 

It had been Jason’s first bit of luck since coming back, running into her. She hadn’t wanted anything to do with the Red Hood when he’d first came to town (unsurprising, really), but when she realized it was Jason underneath all the soot and blood she’d dragged him to safety and stitched him up, cursing under her breath the whole time in a very un-Catwoman-like manner. Jason didn’t know if he'd ever seen her as worked up as she was that night, fear and anger warring across her fine features.

Jason didn’t tell her the cut was from Bruce. Selina didn’t tell Bruce where he was, or even that he was alive. They looked after each other that way.

He’d had to get out of Gotham after that, stubbornly dragging himself out of Selina’s apartment in the dead of night under the knowing gaze of her many cats. He had been a weird mix of shame, sorrow, and righteousness back then, wild and careless because of it. Star City had been the first flight out and he knew Cobblepot had business there. It had seemed as good an idea as any.

He hadn’t counted on Roy Harper.

Jason huffed as Roy’s fingers brushed over the scar his arrow had left, eyes closed. “That was a pretty good fight,” he murmured, piecing together the fuzzy bits of memory in his mind. “I won.”

Roy dug the needle in with a bit more force than necessary, causing Jason to hiss. “Excuse you,  _ I  _ won that fight, you blew up a train as a means to escape. And you better not tell me that red helmet of yours is still chock full of explosives, you crazy bastard.”

Jason could feel the painkillers working through his system, which was surprising. Usually his body processed most over-the-counter medication too quickly for it to be effective. Jason blamed the bloodloss. 

“Then I won’t tell you,” Jason said, mockingly obedient.

Roy clucked his tongue at Jason’s answer, immediately launching into a technical diatribe about how Jason wired his suit. Jason half-listened, having heard it before. League training had beaten into him the absolute necessity of not letting another person touch your gear. The second assassination attempt had made it pretty clear.

Which, Roy was pretty unlikely to assassinate him, and he was no slouch in the hardware department either. Also, Jason probably owed him for blowing up the train with him still on it.

He opened his eyes to the sight of Roy’s long neck, hair sweaty at his nape. Roy had his head awkwardly tilted to the side as he finished up the last few stitches along Jason’s shoulder. His throat was pale with noticeably fewer freckles than the rest of his body, making it seem strangely vulnerable. They were so close like this - Jason could feel every breath Roy took and knew it was the same for him as well. Absurdly, he felt the sudden need to hold his breath and fought against it.

Another memory floated by, prompted by the sight of Roy’s throat that Jason couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from. It was Roy on his back in the cold grass, underneath him. Jason could feel the warmth from the burning debris, suddenly, could hear the slurred, concussed sound of Roy’s voice back then. Had he pulled Roy off the train before it blew? He couldn’t remember. 

Before he realized what he was doing, Jason reached up and brushed away a few hairs from Roy’s neck but kept his hand there, forcing Roy to jerk back and look at him in surprise.

“I’m sorry,” Jason said, genuinely remorseful at the memory of his rage, his cruel need to lash out and make the world hurt as much as he did. “I think...I think I broke your arm?”

“Dislocated my shoulder,” Roy corrected, staring at him with a curious expression. There were at least two freckles on his bottom lip and Jason had no idea what he was going to do with all this information, he really didn’t. Roy gave him a reassuring smile. “It’s alright. It popped right back in like a Russian doll, Jaybird. No harm, no foul.”

Roy’s hands were still on his skin although he’d finished his stitching, wide palms suddenly warm in the cool air of the hotel bathroom. Jason shivered. They were both staring at each other, tension suddenly on the rise again.

It was Roy who blinked first, long and slow as if gathering his strength. He smiled when he opened his eyes again, patting Jason’s shoulder gently. “All done,” he said, rising to his full height as he pulled away to wash his hands, dipping a washcloth under the spray and handing it to Jason so he could wipe down. Between the shoulder and his ankle a shower wasn’t in the cards tonight.

A few minutes later Jason was out of the bathroom and sitting on the edge of one of the queen beds, awkwardly zipping up a thin hoodie to sleep in after struggling his way into a pair of sweatpants. The other bed was covered with weapons and their dirty, bloody gear, so it looked like they’d be sharing tonight. Jason supposed he could strip the sheets and sleep on the mattress, but he couldn’t bring himself to move as the loss of adrenaline hit, exhaustion setting in after a few days without sleep.

Roy wasn’t changing into his pajamas, however, shrugging on a thick denim jacket instead. “Just gonna go get some ice, big guy, maybe see if the front desk will give us some extra towels and sheets,” he explained. He snatched up his keys, whirling them around his finger absently as he made for the door. Roy kept looking at the keys, barely glancing in Jason’s direction. “Want anything?”

Jason shook his head, still contemplating the small snatches of memory, the soft warmth of Roy’s skin under his hand. He felt guilty, but guilt mixed with something else, and he couldn’t put his finger on it.

“Get some sleep, Jaybird,” Roy said, tone forcefully bright as he opened the door, still not making eye contact, and left. Jason could hear him whistling faintly down the hall.

Without Roy, the hotel room was as quiet as a tomb. Jason, too exhausted to focus on his stupid, broken brain, gave up and slipped under the covers. He left the light on, but sleep came for him faster than a gunshot as soon as his head hit the pillow.

///


	2. Chapter 2

**in nebraska, you can still be happy: two**

Roy was pretty used to disappointment, but that didn’t stop the thick, heavy feeling of shame that sat low in his belly at the moment. He had practically fled the hotel room in a panic after those weird, charged minutes in the bathroom. There had been this look in Jason’s eyes, one Roy had seen before, and every part of his body had screamed at him to double down on that niggling feeling inside him, to lean in and…and then Roy realized he’d been staring at Jason who was staring at his _mouth_ , and everything got too real too quickly and he’d ran.

It wasn’t his proudest moment. He was trying to take extra time to help center himself as he looked for supplies for the next few days--if there really was to be a blizzard he wanted to be prepared in case the hotel lost power. Yes. That’s what he was doing, because he was responsible. 

The small, stern-looking older woman at the front desk was currently peering at him through red horn-rimmed glasses as she tried to reassure him that bad winters weren’t unusual in Nebraska. Roy thought of Jason’s small artillery in the hotel room upstairs and tried desperately to pass off his anxiety as a “preference for privacy.”

The gamble didn’t pay off. In fact, Roy watched with rising terror as the thin excuse completely backfired on him as the woman leaned forward in her seat with a conspiratorial expression.

“Oh, don’t worry son,” she said, tone warming, “You two will be just fine here. Hastings is more progressive than you think.” She looked him up and down, then followed up with a whisper, “We even have a _lesbian_ on the city council.”

Roy, once he recovered, almost whined in frustration. _Not great, Harper. Not great._ He really had no one to blame but himself. He cursed Nebraska in his head again, hating snow and Tara Battleworth and his own bad decisions.

“Ah, well…” he stammered, because this was _so_ not what he needed to be thinking about, but he didn’t want to be rude to a nice civilian only trying to help. Roy fought to find his most charming, crooked smile. “Well, uh, thank you. Yes, thank you, for your...support?”

The woman stared at him expectantly, her gray-streaked bun perfect even at three in the morning. Roy wished he could get his hair to do that. 

“My, uh, _partner_ ,” he tried, wincing. Roy looked down, watching his own two feet shuffle nervously against the pale green carpet. He was going to hell, Jesus Christ. “He, _I_ , aren’t exactly…”

“Exclusive?” the woman asked, clearly trying out the word for the first time and maybe not quite understanding its meaning. “Is that what the kids call it?”

Roy scowled, head snapping up. “What? No...public.” 

The lie just came out. Roy laughed nervously at his own pun. 

“Oh honey,” the woman said, sympathy clear in her eyes. Oh god, Roy felt so terrible. 

The lie seemed to do the trick though, because suddenly the woman was out of her seat and headed to the backroom, returning after a minute with a pile of towels and extra sheets. Roy took his hard-earned prize in both arms, screwing his smile back into place. 

The woman pointed to her nametag. “You need anything, you ask for Pam. Even if it is just more sheets.” And then, horrifyingly, she winked.

This time Roy couldn’t help the small embarrassed squeak that left his mouth. 

Right. Because Pam here thought Roy needed more sheets because of sex, not because Jason had bled on everything. Oh god, now Roy was thinking about sex and Jason and he was Not Supposed to Be Doing That. 

Focus, focus on Pam, who had clearly read a few pamphlets on how to support LGTBQ+ members and was trying so hard. _Oh god the sheets were covered in blood what kind of assumptions was she going to make after they left?_ Roy would have to get rid of the sheets in some clandestine fashion.

“T-thanks, Pam,” Roy stuttered, trying to back up towards the lobby door. The tips of his ears felt hot with embarrassment. 

“You know,” Pam offered, with great seriousness, “I’ve always liked that RuPaul. Even back in the 90s when you weren’t supposed to.”

Roy fled. Again. 

+

After what Roy was thinking of as the _Pam Incident_ he dropped off towels and sheets in the hotel room before heading out for ice and snacks. Jason was dead to the world, his breathing unchanged as Roy came and went. 

It hadn’t always been like that, especially at first. Roy remembered Jason’s shadowed eyes and worn face the first few weeks on the island with the three of them together. Roy hadn’t pressed at the time, recalling his own first experience on the Teen Titans and how difficult it’d been to get used to other people operating in his space. Vigilante training didn’t tend to lead to great sleeping habits, let alone whatever nonsense Jason had been up to in his lost years.

Like, the guy glowed when he meditated. That couldn’t possibly be easy to sleep through.

But now, Roy thought as a warm smile broke out over his face, Jason slept on as Roy flitted in and out, trusting even though he had been injured. _It could be the blood loss and exhaustion,_ whispered that ugly voice inside him, the one Roy hated, but he knew, he _knew_ in his bones that wasn’t it. Jason’s trust was something tangible, something he could hold onto. 

Nebraska was fucking _cold_ at four in the morning, and Roy hurried to bring the rest of their supplies out of the rented Jeep and (allegedly) hacked a few vending machines for soda and snacks just in case. Armed to the teeth with Fritos and sugar, Roy felt mildly better about this entire predicament and hurried back inside where it was warm. It took every ounce of his skillset to ferret away the crinkly-wrapped snack food without waking Jason, but Roy managed. 

Finally satisfied, Roy closed the curtains against the first rays of dawn and noticed a few snowflakes beginning to fall. He stripped down to his boxers and undershirt before hitting the lights and trudged over to the far side of the bed. 

He was bone-tired in a way that only followed a mission, the feeling only amplified by taking on the lion’s share of the clean-up. Jason, paranoid and controlling in a way only a Bat could be, was usually rigorous about cleaning gear and debriefing, searching for any potential fallout. 

Roy eyed the pile of armor and weaponry and general grossness on the other bed. _Whatever_. 

And suddenly, with nothing left to do, there was just...Jason.

Roy had spent a lot of the last three years examining every emotion, action, and thought process he’d ever had. “A searching and fearless moral inventory,” as they said in the program. It got easier as time went on, yet somehow not at all. Roy usually got strung up halfway through the twelve steps, stopped by words like “forgiveness,” and “shortcomings.”

Sometimes, Roy felt he would never be able to have forgiveness for the things he’d done. There were days he couldn’t fathom asking the world for so much.

Jason had already given up a lot. Roy couldn’t imagine asking him for more. 

Roy pinched the bridge of his nose, then wiped his hand over his face as he pulled himself together. Jason was on his side, tipped toward the center of the bed, facing the door as always. He had an arm beneath his pillow and the other clutched protectively to his chest. It was how he usually slept, a position that had probably kept him warmer when he was younger, now given way to necessity as he cleared six feet. It was going to pull on his newly injured shoulder, however, but there wasn’t much Roy could do about it now.

“What am I going to do about you, buddy?” Roy whispered to him, finally sliding back the covers enough to climb in. Jason grunted in his sleep as the mattress dipped, but didn’t wake. Roy laid down on his back, one arm above his head so he didn’t run the risk of touching Jason. He closed his eyes and wished, suddenly, desperately, that he could talk to Waylon. To anyone.

 _That’s good, kid_ , he could hear Waylon saying, his rough voice a comforting rumble in his head, _You want to talk, not drink, that’s good_. And it was good, Roy told himself, taking a few slow, deep breaths to relax his body. 

_Can’t let your head get in the way_ , Brave Bow used to tell him, _Don’t be your own worst enemy_. And Roy imagined the warm Arizona sun on his face, Brave Bow’s fingers wrapped around his own as he helped notch those first few arrows. 

_What does the Big Book say about fear, Roy?_ Dinah asked, her own worn copy between her fingers, _What does it stand for?_ And Roy opened his eyes, exhaling one last deep breath.

“Face everything and recover,” Roy told the ceiling, voice barely a whisper. 

Roy turned his head slightly, looking down at Jason’s mussed, dark curls. There was a smear of blood behind his ear he hadn’t managed to wipe off. Roy wanted to touch the skin there, and this time Roy acknowledged the powerful, warm pulse that went through him. 

God, he didn’t want to touch Jason there, he wanted to touch him everywhere. He wanted to kiss that spot behind his ear, to suck it, bloody or not, nothing could possibly deter him. Roy felt his heart speed up and let the feeling wash through him, the strength of it like a wave he had to struggle to withstand.

 _Christ_. 

Fuck.

Roy wanted to fuck Jason Todd. In fact, he was pretty sure he’d been wanting to for a while.

 _I hope you’re happy, Pam_ , Roy thought rather uncharitably.

In all honesty Roy should have been prepared for this. He knew he had a long, storied history of falling into bed with teammates, of even falling in love with them. He wasn’t ashamed of that fact. Roy had entered puberty like a rocket finally launched, dizzy with hormones and eager to try anything and everything he could his hands or mouth on. 

Now, Roy knew the correlation between addiction and insecurity, he knew how it fueled his high sex drive, but he never struggled with sex and intimacy in the way so many others did. Sex for him had always been a strangely safe space. Roy knew he had a knack for intuiting other people’s needs and he always lacked a sense of propriety or shame about it, which was probably thanks to Oliver. 

The relationship between Oliver and Dinah had always been this charged, primal experience for anyone within ten feet of them. Roy had never met anyone else who lusted and loved one another so completely. It certainly didn’t mean they could always make a relationship work, but the boldness of it felt honest to Roy in a way he couldn’t put his finger on and in a way he wanted for himself.

If Roy was going to have regrets or shame about anything, it wasn’t going to be for being intimate with someone, for caring about them and making them feel good. Fuck that. 

Kori had understood. Her thoughts on love, sex, and intimacy mirrored his own. Being with her had felt so, so good, both of them so in tune. Maybe, Roy reflected now, maybe a little too similar. Maybe that’s why it was so surprising when they disagreed, the hurt over their differences amplified. Maybe it was that Kori had only been sharing pieces of herself. He knew it wasn’t because she didn’t trust him, but...well, the truth was that she didn’t trust him.

Jason--prickly, reckless, calculating, guarded-would-be-an-understatement--Jason, he had given up his memories, given up _himself_ to save them both. He had trusted them to not give up on his extremely annoying, amnesiac self. Jason had laid his secrets bare for the world to see in their battle with the Untitled. 

Jason, who had been the first hero to die since the formation of the Justice League, had decided to sacrifice himself another way if it meant the world was saved and his friends lived. 

And then they did live, because not even a prophecy could keep Jason Todd from fighting back with everything he had. Instead, Jason had pulled fucking magical swords out of his arms and defeated Ra’s al Ghul and then was by all accounts pretty pissed about being bothered in the first place.

Fucking _Bats._

Roy sighed. How the fuck was he supposed to compete with that? When he’d tried he’d nearly died first of exposure and then got tricked into almost ending the world. 

Jason huffed in his sleep, as if hearing Roy’s thoughts. According to Jason, Roy was not allowed to say negative things about himself. _That’s my job, Harper._ Even his nose was scrunched up like he was trying to sneer. 

Roy smiled, helpless. He reached over to tug the covers a little higher, watching as Jason relaxed at the reassuring weight of the blanket, breathing out slowly at the feel of Roy’s touch. He’d done that earlier in the bathroom as well, leaned in to Roy’s hands without a thought.

This was the real problem, Roy realized, watching as Jason curled a little tighter, unwittingly drawn by the warmth of another body in the bed. They had shared beds, wounds, even loss together, but it had never felt like this. No, this was Roy finally catching Jason looking at him in the bathroom and realizing what so many of those other stares and throwaway touches actually meant.

Roy was almost positive Jason wanted him as well.

Jason had an expressive face but a trained, slight smile. He could be terrifyingly stoic, but not for very long. Roy had spent a lot of time coaxing the big bad Red Hood out of his shell for over a year, and honestly it hadn’t taken nearly as much effort as he thought it would. Granted, he’d been working with Dick Grayson as a model to go off of and the first Boy Wonder was perhaps the greatest achievement in compartmentalization Roy had ever seen. Roy loved Dick, would die for him, but sometimes there was a place Dick would go that Roy couldn’t begin to fathom, let alone reach. 

The question was, as always, what Roy was going to do about it, and that he didn’t have an answer to. There hadn’t been a lot of romance in Jason’s memories, not even a lot of friendships. Roy had heard Jason once refer to a _gargoyle_ as his best friend. Somehow Roy’s x-rated fantasies seemed wildly incongruent in a way they almost never did when Roy felt this way about another person. It had stopped him cold. He felt fourteen all over again, turned on and terrified as he fumbled his way through bra clasps and jockstraps.

He knew it’d be good though. Fuck, it’d be _so good_. Roy actually had to clench his teeth and will away the swirl of arousal that welled within him. Jason mumbled something at the sudden tension and Roy realized that he wasn’t going to get any sleep like this, not this close to something he wanted so badly. 

Roy slid out from under the covers. Jason shifted as he did, searching with one arm to find the source of his discomfort. Roy took the pillow he’d been using and experimentally pushed it to Jason’s chest. Jason clutched it immediately, breathing harshly once, then twice through his nose before going boneless once again. 

Yep, Roy was fucked. 

///


	3. Chapter 3

**in nebraska, you can still be happy: three**

Jason woke to the sound of a keyboard and howling wind. He woke up clean, alert, not even the slightest trace of last night’s fuzziness in his brain. He was tucked in under the warm weight of heavy blankets, a pillow clasped firmly against his chest and face. He could smell the comforting scent of motor oil and burnt sugar that followed Roy around like a bad habit. Roy had a sweet tooth a mile long and if there was candy to be found, Roy would find it. Jason liked the smell, and he indulged in one more deep breath before he sat up and faced the world.

Roy was perched on the one chair in the hotel room, a laptop and tablet crammed haphazardly on top of the narrow table that also held a television. There was only the light from the bathroom illuminating the small space, and the blue glow of the screens framed Roy’s silhouette in white. He had one leg up on the seat, chin resting on a bony knee as he studied the screens in front of him. 

Roy was dressed in a STAR Labs tank top that was dangerously tight on his broad shoulders, no doubt nicked from Wally. Jason could see Kori’s lavender kimono bunched halfway down his arms and spilling out onto the floor. His hair was loose, hanging in long auburn sheets that hid his face. He was absently twirling an arrow in one hand like it was a fidget spinner.

Another gust of wind shook through the building, causing the blinds on the window to rattle. Jason forced himself out of bed, testing his ankle and shoulder as he went. The shoulder was stiff as hell, but the stitches had held. His ankle was still tender and Jason braced himself along the wall as he hobbled to the window. As he pushed aside the curtains and opened the blinds, a sudden spotlight of bright light filled the entire room. Jason winced, immediately holding up a hand to shield his eyes.

White. Everything was white. Jason could barely make out the individual snowflakes as the wind drove them down and sideways. The parking lot below might as well have been in Narnia, for all Jason could see. He checked the time and found it was still early, only seven in the morning. There hadn’t even been snow when they’d arrived in the dead of night. .

“Morning, Jaybird,” Roy said from across the room. His voice was scratchy and tired. It sounded like he hadn’t slept. Jason had only gotten four hours but he didn’t need much more than that. Frowning, Jason made his way slowly to where Roy sat, using the back of the chair to brace himself as he looked over Roy’s shoulder at the double screens.

“What are you doing?” he asked, peering curiously. Roy had the hard drive they’d stolen from Cale-Anderson hooked up to the laptop. He had one hand on the ten-key, fingers rapidly coding, the other still lazily spinning the arrow between his fingers. The tablet was open to local news and weather coverage. Jason raised an eyebrow. There had been strict orders to not access the data they recovered from the mission and while Jason had planned to ignore them anyway, he was surprised to find Roy had decided to go below board. 

“Hacking the mainframe,” Roy joked. He set the arrow down on the desk, then used his free hand to push his hair out of his face. He glanced up at Jason, fingers stilling momentarily. Jason noticed the dark circles under his eyes. No sleep then. Disillusionment could do that to a person, but Roy was a tough nut to crack.

Jason’s frown deepened, wondering if he was the source of Roy’s insomnia. Maybe he’d had a nightmare. He didn’t remember one, and he’d woken in essentially the same position he’d fallen asleep in. 

“I didn’t keep you up, did I?” he asked. 

Roy hesitated at the question, which immediately peaked Jason’s interest. Roy wasn’t exactly a hesitant person. Roy could tell he’d caught it, and gave Jason a small smile. “No, Jason. It wasn’t you. I just...I want to know what these guys are up to. I don’t trust it.”

“I don’t either,” Jason said steadily. Roy almost never called him by his real name, so there was clearly something else bothering him but he wasn’t ready to talk about it. Jason reached down and palmed Roy’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You should get some sleep though. It’s not like we’re going anywhere in this blizzard.”

“Right,” Roy said distractedly, eyes going back to the tablet in front of him. “They’ve shut down most roads and airports within fifty miles, according to the Department of Transportation. Weather report says the storm should break by tonight, though. We still might get lucky.”

“How long will all this take?” Jason asked, gesturing to the laptop. Roy shrugged. 

“I don’t really have what I need, but after I finish writing this program it’ll probably take a few hours to crack it,” Roy murmured, fingers once again beginning to flit over the keyboard. There wasn’t much that could be done when Roy was focused on a project like this, and Jason knew it.

“Alright, new plan then,” Jason said, pulling away to look for some shoes. “You finish that up while I hunt down whatever passes for breakfast in this place, and when I come back we’ll eat and then you can sleep while it works, okay?”

Roy made a noncommittal sound. “I raided the vending machine last night, I’m good. But if you go down to the lobby you might want to shower first, Jaybird. There’s still blood on you and we probably shouldn’t scare the locals.”

“And take away all my fun?” Jason asked, but headed for the shower anyway.

+

Much to Jason’s delight, Nebraskans didn’t mess around when it came to breakfast. The hotel had a robust continental spread full of all the protein and carbs a growing boy could want. Jason ate his fill first, then tucked a milk carton in his pocket and constructed a heaping plate to take back to the room for Roy. His tower of eggs, bacon and hashbrowns drew a dirty glance from a few onlookers and at least one impressed nod from a nearby preteen. 

There were a lot of families staying here, which made sense given the holiday, and Jason navigated amongst the chaos as best he could with a bum ankle. It was nice to listen to the excited chatter of the kids who were over the moon at the prospect of a blizzard. Jason couldn’t blame them--he agreed, there were definitely some epic snowman possibilities. 

As Jason walked past the front desk on his way back up to the rooms, a small woman with a neat, gray-streaked bun gave him a once over, eyeing his limp suspiciously. The last thing he and Roy needed right now was any scrutiny, and he gave her a polite smile as he passed, dipping his head a little. 

“Ma’am,” he said, because good manners tended to get him farther than his personality. Not that he chose to use them very often. Weirdly, the woman at the desk gave him a very serious nod in return, and if Jason didn’t know any better he’d say she was starting to blush.

Roy was in the same spot Jason had left him when he got back to the room. Without asking, Jason marched over and plucked the whirling arrow from Roy’s hand and replaced it with the full plate. 

“Eat,” he commanded, fishing out the milk from his back pocket. “Drink.”

Roy gave him a crooked, apologetic grin as he glanced up. “Thanks, Dad.”

Jason huffed and flicked him on the ear, turning away to focus on cleaning up the room. Roy squawked, indignant, but it helped ease that strange, heavy pressure that was starting to build up again between them. Roy clicked away for a few more minutes, then resigned himself to his fate after Jason pointedly cleared his throat. 

Jason grabbed a towel and set about cleaning his twin pistols, watching Roy carefully to make sure he ate. For someone who had worked so hard to better their life, Roy was pretty terrible at looking after himself. 

Roy just always did whatever he wanted to do, whatever made him happy. If he wanted to spend fifteen hours straight working on some crazy new gadget he would. He wouldn’t bother with sleep, with food, nothing. And then, gadget finished or not, Roy would walk away from his project if he felt like doing something else. Jason had once watched him spend two entire days on the beach, lazy in the sand as the sun freckled him to the point he was almost tan, eating his weight in raw coconut and Jason’s stolen marshmallows. 

It made Jason envious, that guileless pursuit of pleasure. One of the first hard lessons Jason had ever learned was to not show anyone if you wanted something, especially if you couldn’t help but enjoy it. Roy and Kori’s easy hedonism had chipped away at that notion, thankfully, easing the discomfort Jason felt about his own impulsive nature. It had also made him feel incredibly protective of these two amazing people he’d met, both of them so open and honest Jason swore he’d salt and raze the Earth should anyone try to take that from them.

Not that they needed it, especially Kori. Roy though, Jason thought, Roy didn’t need it, but he suspected Roy wanted it. Jason didn’t know a lot about whatever had happened between him and Oliver. Roy never talked about it, and Jason wondered if Roy did that on purpose so that Jason didn’t run off half-cocked to start a war.

The laptop beeped, drawing both their attention. Jason quirked an eyebrow at Roy as he assembled his second handgun with easy, practiced fingers. Roy wiped a bit of bacon grease off his mouth with the back of his hand and sighed.

“Program’s up and running. We’ll know more soon.”

“You already know what’s going to be on there,” Jason said gently. They’d talked about it the night they’d accepted this mission. 

Jason had done his damnedest to convince Roy that there was no way to stop shady military experimentation, not if they wanted to keep working legitimately. Roy wanted to be a hero, though, not a criminal. Personally, Jason could list on one hand the people he met who weren’t criminals in one form or another. For some reason though, instead of giving Roy the same fucking speech he’d screamed at anyone who would listen, he’d decided to help him. 

“Yeah, I know,” Roy said, pushing the plate away as he stood. He stretched his arms above his head and Jason winced in sympathy as Roy’s spine cracked. 

Roy rotated one shoulder, then another, letting the lavender robe fall to the floor as he did so. Roy crossed his arms in front of his chest, stretching them out one at a time. Jason watched as Roy’s muscular biceps flex once, twice. Roy was lean and fit, and certainly handsome, but Jason always found his eyes drawn to those strong arms. 

“You’re staring, Jaybird,” Roy said in a mildly playful tone. “You jealous?”

Feeling caught out, Jason kept staring anyway, defiant.

“Sure, let’s go with that, Harper.” Jason huffed, not giving in. 

Roy winked at him. Jason could feel his cheeks start to turn a traitorous pink. He looked down at the gun in his hands, fuming a little. 

Roy Harper was hot,  _ so what? _ It was hardly news. Jason thought it the first time he’d met him as Speedy, despite the atrocious yellow gloves and hat. He’d had a fucking feather in his cap, and he’d still thought Roy was stupidly attractive. 

Jason was actually kind of glad he died before puberty really took hold of him, given the thoughts he’d been having back then. 

Jason flicked his eyes back up, catching Roy’s curious expression. 

“What?” he asked irritably, ignoring the warm blush he felt spreading across the bridge of his nose. Insanely, he thought about the night before in the bathroom, the solid weight of Roy’s calloused palms on his skin, the closeness of Roy’s body. 

Suddenly the tension over the last few days made a lot more sense. 

Roy took a few steps towards him, which did nothing but make the heat inside him burn a little brighter. Jason could always sense when change was in the air, he could feel the excitement and danger that were its precursor. He straightened his spine at the promise of it, trying to smooth out his expression as best he could. 

Roy didn’t seem nearly as affected, his green eyes steady and dark as he came to a stop beside the bed, Jason’s knees brushing the tops of his thighs.

“I was just looking back at you, Jaybird,” Roy said softly. He reached out with one hand, telegraphing his movement as if he expected Jason to fight back. 

Jason breathed steadily through his nose, fighting to stay still as Roy’s large hand cupped the side of his head, one thumb brushing over first his cheekbone and then the shell of his ear. He felt Roy’s fingers sink into his hair. It felt  _ good _ , certain and soft at the same time, and Jason felt himself lean into the touch ever-so-slightly.

“Just looking, huh?” Jason taunted. His heart was beginning to beat wildly in his chest. Roy’s eyes were so  _ green. _

Jason swallowed, throat dry. He set the partially dismantled gun to his side and deliberately placed his hands at his sides.

“Why? You want me to do more?” Roy asked, his crooked smile turning intent in a way Jason had seen before, but never directed at himself. It was heady, that smile. Jason felt like he’d suddenly become transparent, stripped bare from a mere glance, but instead of the panic that accompanied such a vulnerable feeling he felt only a strange sense of calm. 

Roy’s fingers tightened in his hair and Jason felt his head tip back. 

“Yes,” he decided, breathing out his answer. 

Roy’s eyes turned even darker, his beautiful smile gaining a triumphant edge. He bent at the waist and wrapped his other hand around Jason’s neck, sliding up to cup his jaw. Jason white-knuckled the sheets instinctively.

“I fucking  _ knew  _ it,” Roy growled, leaning in, and Jason’s eyes slammed shut.

Roy kissed him, confident and firm. Jason’s mind filled with static, excitement bursting underneath that thin veneer of glassy calm. He weakly tried to kiss Roy back as his body struggled to come back online, frozen momentarily. Jason tried to remember the last time he’d kissed another person like this. He needed to breathe, but he didn’t want to. 

Instead, Roy broke first, kissing the corner of Jason’s lips before mouthing down along the side of his neck. Jason gasped as he felt the drag of teeth under his jawline, one hand flying up to wrap around the back of Roy’s head.

“I’ll shoot you if you leave a mark on me,” Jason threatened, even as his hand clutched Roy a little tighter. Roy moaned at the encouragement.

“I’ll fucking risk it,” Roy muttered, the sound wet as he mouthed up and behind Jason’s ear before giving it a hard suck. Jason shuddered helplessly, fingernails digging into the back of Roy’s neck. 

“ _ Christ _ , Harper,” Jason cried out. He yanked Roy off before he could leave a bruise. Undaunted, Roy kissed him again, but slower, more intent. Jason felt his eyes slide shut, lost in sensation for a moment as Roy tongued the seam of his mouth.

“Fuck, that’s it,” Roy said, sounding wrecked. He nipped and sucked Jason’s lower lip, the sharp pain melting into pleasure. “C’mon,  _ c’mon _ , Jason, open up for me.”   
  


Electricity crackled along his skin, each word lashing his skin. Jason gasped and Roy pressed his advantage, eagerly licking into his mouth as he held Jason still with those large hands. The pleasure of it was overwhelming, wet and filthy, and Roy kept murmuring demands that made his head spin. 

Fuck, it felt so  _ good _ . Jason couldn’t remember the last time his brain had shut off for anything other than rage. It was like Roy had filled him with lust and sunshine and there was nothing left of him at all. Jason wanted more.

Jason ran his hand up Roy’s arm, finally getting to squeeze the firm muscles there before hooking his arm around Roy’s neck. He needed to be closer, he wanted to hear Roy make more of those deep groans that seemed to almost strangle him. Roy moved with him, one hand immediately going to support his back as Jason arched into him, trying to get them up and over to the empty bed instead of the one covered in blood and guns. 

“Christ,” Jason panted as he struggled to his feet. The movement brought their bodies in line together, and Jason moaned outright as he felt every hard inch of Roy pressed up against his hips. “Fuck, Roy, I--”

He didn’t get to finish his statement, cutting himself off as the lights flickered around them, then went dark. The unmistakable electronic whirr of machines turning off filled the air. A lightbulb in the bathroom popped, glass tinkling on tile, the sound shocking the both of them.

Jason instinctively tensed and tried to get in a defensive position, Roy trying to do the same. They were too tangled in one another though and Jason tripped, coming down hard on his bad ankle. He grunted at the sudden pain, feeling Roy’s arm come back around him as fast as it had left to keep him upright. Jason had a knife halfway out of his belt before the sudden sound of Roy’s laughter stopped him in his tracks.

“It’s the blizzard, Jaybird,” Roy said, nothing but a voice and warm skin as Jason’s eyes struggled to adjust. He chuckled again, and Jason felt the whisper of a kiss against his ear. “That scared the stuffing out of me, holy crap.”

As their eyes finally adjusted to the dim light, Roy pulled away so he could examine Jason’s face. Roy’s hair was wrecked from Jason’s eager fingers, and his mouth was shiny with spit in the darkness. Jason watched the slight lift of his shoulders as he fought to catch his breath. 

_ I did that _ , he thought dizzily to himself, proud. Roy seemed caught in his own evaluation of Jason, strangely speechless with an apprehensive look on his face. Jason gave him a small, reassuring smile, and after a moment Roy returned it tenfold. 

They stood there, each unwilling to be the first to break the moment.

“Shit, the laptop!” Roy blurted, eyes going wide. He turned away abruptly, dashing over to the table and started pulling cords and power blocks out of his bag in a frenzy.

Jason took a deep breath and shook himself, heart fluttering in his chest. It matched the howling wind he could finally hear again, the storm outside a metaphor for his own emotional state. “I’ll clean up the glass,” he said, and moved.

///


	4. Chapter 4

**in nebraska, you can still be happy: four**

It took Roy four tries to get the laptop connected to a power source. His hands shook, entire body vibrating from the lingering echoes of Jason’s mouth on his. Jason was moving around behind him, unzipping the emergency kit. Roy heard the telltale  _ crack _ of a chemlight activating, and the room filled with a dull green glow. 

He dared to glance behind him, catching sight of Jason staring at the green plastic tube with an uneasy expression.

“Thanks,” Roy said softly. Jason looked up, almost ethereal in the weird light. His hair was tousled from Roy’s fingers, lips swollen. 

Jason stared back. The both of them were still in the dim glow, silence growing.

Look, Roy had  _ prepared _ . He had intended to be chivalrous and responsible. Jason was the one who had blushed and looked at him with such... _ want _ , there was no other word for it and…then Roy had done what he’d always done.

Roy hadn’t been prepared though, not really. Not for Jason to have said yes, for Jason to shudder and almost cry out from something as simple as a few kisses. Jason was already illegal hot, gorgeous and competent and dangerous and five million other adjectives for things that Roy loved. His skin had been so warm. He’d tasted like eggs and coffee and even that had bowled Roy right over.

He wanted his hands on him again.

Jason, never one to flinch, broke the silence. He tossed the chemlight to Roy, grabbing up another and cracking it with a grimace “Did you save the drive?”

“Yeah.” Roy bobbled the chemlight before setting it behind him, then said, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Jason glared at him. It was so familiar and expected, so  _ Jason _ , that Roy was soothed immediately. He hadn’t broken anything, he hadn’t done it wrong.

“What, you change your mind, Harper?” Jason said cockily, tossing the chemlight on the bed so he could fold his arms over his chest. With his teased hair and dark eyes he looked positively bratty.

Roy licked his lips. 

“I’m just trying to make sure I do this right, Jaybird. That’s all,” Roy said, standing up. Outside their room he could hear people shuffling into the hall, the sounds of hotel staff knocking on doors, no doubt checking on guests due to the blackout. 

“Of course you are,” Jason said without heat. Roy ignored the barb as usual, more interested in watching another wave of unease wash over Jason’s face.

“What is it?” Roy asked, moving to stand. “You look like you’re bleeding internally and I’m trying not to take that personally.”

Jason frowned, then smoothed out his features and pretended Roy couldn’t read him like a book. Roy came over to him, but didn’t touch, the two of them squaring off in the narrow gap between the two beds. The heat had gone out with the lights, and Roy could feel the goosebumps starting to pop up on his arms and legs, clad only in a tank top and boxer shorts. 

“It’s not you,” Jason said, his tone softer as he looked away. Roy waited him out, crossing his arms loosely over his own chest as well. After a moment, Jason sighed, then gestured around the room. “Fine. I don’t like the chemlights, alright? They’re green and they creep me out.”

That...was not exactly what Roy had been expecting. There were two reasons Jason might not like the color green, and neither of them were great. Roy tilted his head to the side, trying to catch Jason’s eye.

“Don’t,” Jason grated out, still choosing to be difficult. “I don’t need your pity of whatever dumb thing you’re going to say.”

“Heaven forbid,” Roy muttered, which earned him the smallest uptick in the corner of Jason’s mouth. Jason did look at him then, and there was that hint of shyness he’d had earlier that went straight to Roy’s heart and...other regions. 

Roy smiled, helpless.

“You Gotham kids are all so dramatic,” he said, backing away to pick up the kimono he’d dropped on the floor earlier. Jason’s face went from irritated to bewildered as soon as Roy slid it on and walked to the hotel door.

“What’re you doing?” he asked. Roy held a finger to his lips and cracked open the door, taking in the mess of harried staff and worried guests roaming the hallway. His eyes zeroed in on a housekeeping cart, filled to the brim with blankets, batteries, and flashlights. He walked over to it and immediately began grabbing a few supplies without asking permission. He was ignored, thankfully, and slipped back inside in less than a minute.

Jason was where he’d left him, though this time with a gun in his hand because he was a paranoid bastard. He set it down when Roy rolled his eyes, looking at Roy with obvious confusion. 

“Candles,” Roy explained, holding up his prize with one hand, then gestured with the other. “Gimme your lighter and let’s get rid of these green sons of bitches.”

It took a few minutes to get the candles situated safely about the room. The light in the room transitioned from cool green to warm orange as he did so. Chemlights didn’t have an off-switch, so Roy just buried them in one of the duffel bags and threw a towel over the top for good measure. He tossed it all in the bathroom and shut the door. 

“There,” he said, turning and wiping his hands. “All-- _ oof! _ ”

“Sorry,” Jason whispered, crowding Roy back against the bathroom door. He had one hand on Roy’s waist, the other braced against the cheap wood. Roy’s own hands were caught, pressed against Jason’s broad chest as he leaned in. He was heavy and solid and Roy tipped his head back, asking to be kissed. Jason obliged, slipping an arm around Roy’s waist so he could pull him closer. 

_ Eat your heart out, Pam _ , Roy thought, his entire body beginning to hum again. Jason slid a thigh between Roy’s legs, just enough to brush up against Roy’s growing erection. Roy gasped, digging his fingers into the soft cotton of Jason’s sweatshirt. He didn’t have any leverage from this angle, couldn’t even move his arms. Jason seemed to want it that way, pressing him tightly to the door like he couldn’t get close enough. Roy whined into Jason’s mouth, needing air, needing pressure, needing  _ more _ .

Jason gave him nothing, the asshole, and Roy was left to pleasantly writhe against him, trapped.

“Fuck, Jason,” Roy panted when they finally broke apart, breathing heavily in the cool air. Jason had that dangerous smile again, the one he wore when he was particularly proud of a job well done. There were high spots of color on his cheeks and Roy wanted to kiss them. 

“How you doing, Harper?” Jason asked playfully. He took another step back, letting Roy get his feet under him. His hands were sliding under the collar of the kimono, pushing it down his arms. Roy bit his lip as Jason bent his head, leaning down to kiss the top of one bare shoulder.

“Fucking awesome,” Roy answered, eyes sliding shut, unable to help his happy grin. “But we should, oh god, we should slow down, yeah?”

Jason grumbled, lips grazing the skin where Roy’s neck met his shoulder. “No,” was all he said, then sucked experimentally. Roy’s knees shook.

“I’m serious,” Roy said, resolute. He was trying to hold onto his convictions, dammit. For...very good reasons. He knew he had them. Somewhere. He reached down and cupped Jason’s face with his hands, bringing him up to eye level.

“I said I wanted to do this right, and I meant it,” Roy said, his tone more soft and serious than he intended. “If this fucks up our friendship it’s not worth it to me, okay?” he added, searching Jason’s eyes for understanding.

He didn’t find it. Instead, Jason sighed through his nose, pulling away from Roy’s hands and taking a few steps back. He looked nervous, brow furrowed. “Look, what’s not right? What’re you so worried about? If you don’t want to do this just fucking say it, Roy. I’m a big boy, I can handle it.”

“That’s not what I said,” Roy pointed out. The heat from the candles wasn’t much, and without Jason pressed against him the room was getting uncomfortably cold. He shrugged the kimono back over his shoulders and belted it tightly. “You’re a fucking wet dream, Jaybird, of course I want you, Jesus, what kind of question is that?”

“So I’m the one who’s not doing it right, then,” Jason shot back, spine straightening defensively. “You think I’m the one that’s not going to be able to handle it.”

“Goddammit, stop putting words in my mouth,” Roy said, his own irritation starting to make itself known. “I don’t know, can you handle it? I’m not some tiny blonde with perky tits, Jaybird, I don’t even know if you go for that. Also, stop saying ‘handle it.’ I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you and now all I want to do is make dirty jokes.”

Jason gaped at him. “What is wrong with you?”

“A lot, not all of us are stoic creatures of the night, asshole,” Roy grumped. He rubbed his forehead tiredly. 

“I guess I deserved that,” Jason said after a moment. Roy looked up. Jason was standing with a practiced ease, hands empty and ready, shoulders loose. Roy reached out and took him by the hand. 

“Look, you know my history, I’m an open book. I don’t even know if you like dudes, Jaybird. And it’s okay if you don’t know, but that sounds like something we should talk about before this gets a lot more naked and sweaty,” Roy tried to explain. He rubbed his thumb over the back of Jason’s hand, not missing how the other man tensed when he said the word ‘naked.’

Roy closed his eyes.  _ What is fear, Roy?  _

“It scares me that I will hurt you, okay? And I know you’re the scourge of the underground or whatever, but that doesn’t change the fact that I don’t want to,” he said, voice calm in a way his body wasn’t. He still couldn’t open his eyes. Jesus, what was wrong with him? 

Jason didn’t say anything. Roy felt the hand in his pull away. For a moment he felt a deep, swooping panic start up inside his stomach. _Fucked it up_ , he thought miserably. Just as he went to open his eyes and apologize, he felt Jason’s arms loop around him, one over his shoulder and the other around his waist. 

“I don’t know, okay?” Jason whispered, a note of irritation in his voice, but there was something more there, something desperate. Roy held very still, focusing on the sensation of Jason’s lips brushing close to his ear as he spoke. “It’s been a long time since I wanted...anyone. I don’t know if I ever did, really. So, I’m sorry, but I don’t know.”

“You don’t have to be sorry,” Roy told him. He finally opened his eyes, but all he could see was the ridge of Jason’s shoulder, could smell the sweat and gunmetal on the skin of his throat. He wound his own arms around Jason awkwardly. “Thank you.”

Jason squeezed him suddenly, so tight Roy could barely breathe. “I’ve never done this,” he said in a rush, like he was trying to confess his sins before he lost his nerve. “I don’t think I did before, or after. I mean, I can’t remember things sometimes, Roy, so I don’t--”

_ Jesus _ . 

Roy shushed him, turning his head and pressing a soothing kiss to the side of Jason’s neck.

“It’s okay, we’ll figure it out,” he promised, hands rubbing Jason’s back in slow circles. 

Jason shuddered against him, clearly swallowing his panic. Roy didn’t move and neither of them spoke for a while, wrapped up in candlelight and the weight of revelation. 

Roy wasn’t surprised, necessarily, by Jason’s admission, but he hadn’t really understood the full scope of it. He knew what trauma could do, how it could erase and distort memory. He probably had given it more thought. Suddenly Jason’s absolutely abysmal dating game with Isabel made much more sense, even without the impromptu trip to space. 

Jason cleared his throat.

“C’mon,” Jason said, pulling back. He took Roy’s hand in his and guided him to the empty bed. 

Roy resisted momentarily. He wasn’t exactly raring to go anymore. His hesitation must have shown in his face, and now it was Jason’s turn to give him a reassuring look.

“Strictly naptime, Harper. It’s fucking freezing and you’re practically in your underwear. And I know you haven’t slept because you look like shit,” Jason explained, tossing the covers back. He sat down on the edge of the bed, looking up at Roy expectantly. 

“Sweet talker,” Roy teased with a wry smile. “Can’t believe the boys haven’t been banging down your door.” He shrugged off the kimono, noting the way Jason’s eyes went immediately to his arms. It was always the arms. Roy winked.

“Fuck you,” Jason said, but smiled back. There was a warmth that hadn’t been there before, a lightness in it that made Roy’s heart skip a beat.

“We’ll see,” Roy said easily, kneeling up on the mattress. “Now scoot over, I call little spoon.”

///


	5. Chapter 5

**in nebraska, you can still be happy: five**

Jason woke to the sound of soft snores. The candles around them were half-melted, so he couldn’t have been asleep for more than an hour or two.

Roy was fast asleep beside him. He had flipped onto his back as they slept, but Jason still had an arm across his chest, his head tucked in tight against Roy’s shoulder. That candy and motor oil smell was back. Jason closed his eyes and snuggled in, safe in the knowledge that no one could see. Roy’s thin tank was soft against his cheek, and Jason let out a deep sigh as he dozed off.

The next time he woke the candles had long burned out, the smell of smoke in the air. Luckily, power had been restored, and Jason blinked blearily up at the ceiling as his eyes adjusted to the dim light above. Roy was still passed out beside him, obviously exhausted by the way he was drooling into the pillow. The circles under his eyes were much lighter, thankfully. Jason felt the odd impulse to reach out and touch the thin skin there, like he could soothe it using only his fingertips.

Instead, Jason quietly sat up in the bed, trying his best not to disturb Roy. He leaned against the headboard and checked the time -- it was barely past two in the afternoon. He listened for the sound of the storm outside, but heard only silence. That was good news. 

Jason looked down at Roy. His hair was fanned out on the pillow, making him look like he’d stuck his finger in an electrical socket. Jason reached down, hesitating before gently resting his hand on the strands nearest him. Roy’s hair was fine, but he had a lot of it and Jason skimmed the palm of his hand over the red wave of it, marveling at the smooth, silky sensation against his fingers.

Roy had been talking about cutting it. Jason hoped he wouldn’t.

He wondered if that was the type of thing he could tell Roy now.

More importantly, or rather more immediately, he wondered what he should do with the erection that was clearly straining through his sweats. He’d been hard since he woke up, which in itself was something of a rarity. 

It wasn’t that Jason didn’t have a low sex drive, it was more that he didn’t have much of one at all. Before Ethiopia he’d been a typical horny teenager, but by the time his brain came back online after the Pit there hadn’t been room for anything but pain and rage. 

There are gaps in his memory from when he came back. Jason didn’t know how to quantify it, had struggled to explain it every time he tried. He remembered the coffin, the feel of dirt in his eyes and blood running down his fingers as he scrabbled. There were bright lights, he thought, possibly lightning. A storm, a car? 

No one had ever been able to figure out when Jason came back, the coffin, the street, the hospital all bleeding together. He only knew Talia had found him a year after his death, docile yet deadly and hollowed out. Her words. 

Jason didn’t wake up for almost another year and it was the coffin all over again, the Pit equally as suffocating as mud in his mouth. That was his true first memory. Jason only knew that the League had trained him because he could feel and see flashes of it sometimes, had believed the stories he’d been told.

It had been like trying to catch dreams using only a net. Jason had felt emptied out, haunted and hunted by whispers of hands that trained him, images he saw when he tried to fall asleep of people he’d probably met. Whenever he got hard he couldn’t bring himself to try and fantasize about anything, too terrified of feeling a stranger’s hands suddenly on him, a weird aftertaste in his mouth he couldn’t place. 

Over time his arousal became less and less. The training, joining the All-Caste, Ducra’s meditation, all of it helped him immensely when it came to control over his body. He’d hardly thought about it, honestly, despite the offers he received throughout the years. 

Kori and Roy had changed that. Kori had tried to take him to bed within hours of meeting him, because Kori loved nearly everyone she met. Her kiss had been like a shock to the system, her overwhelming power and kind eyes stirring something in his chest he hadn’t felt in a long time. 

It was the hand she’d immediately placed on his soft dick that had stopped her short.

“Oh!” Kori had said, like she’d encountered something new and delightful. Which, upon reflection, she probably had. 

Jason had been rendered inert, shellshocked at the sudden, intimate touch. It was like his brain had dissolved, leaving only a cottony sort of awareness in its place. Nobody had touched him there since...well, Jason couldn’t remember. 

_ (He had a hazy, dreamlike memory of Talia in bed with him, but he couldn’t tell if it was real, what had happened. Jason only remembered, really remembered, waking up in his own bed, fully clothed, with her sitting across from him. She had apologized to him for not taking care of him, and that it wouldn’t happen again. Jason had no idea what she’d been talking about. _

_ Didn’t he? _ )

Kori hadn’t been one to give up on the first try. She’d taken both of Jason’s hands in hers, placing his wide palms against her breasts.

“Would you like to touch me instead?” she’d asked, always helpful, cocking one orange brow.

Jason had stared at her, uncomprehending, caught somewhere between fear and not understanding why he  _ didn’t _ want to touch her. He should want to, right? 

“No?” he had asked, trying to remember the question, that cottony feeling making him feel like words were slipping through his fingers.

And then Kori had asked him if he knew where he was, and he’d answered the same way, that one strangled, defenseless  _ No? _ echoing across the beach.

Kori had changed tactics quickly after that. She’d settled them both down on the sand and pulled his head into her lap, her fingers carding through his hair like liquid steel. Kori kept him there until he surfaced, humming Tamaranean lullabies and shining like a lighthouse as twilight came. They’d talked about memory then, about the lack thereof in some cases.

“You are good and just, Jason Todd,” she had told him, bent over him enough that her fiery hair draped over them both, blocking out the stars like the sun. “You have a lot of love in you. You will not forget those things, or if you do, I will remember them for you.”

Jason had fallen in love with her right then and there. 

Three weeks and one prison break later, Jason had laid in bed and listened to the sounds of Kori and Roy christening nearly every damn room on the ship. The both of them were shameless and stupid in their desire for each other, wanton in their moans and clumsy as they broke tables, dented walls in their enthusiasm. He’d expected it from Kori, but had been surprised at Roy.

Jason had discovered Roy’s dirty mouth that night, frozen in his bed as he listened to the filthy demands Roy moaned, voice ragged in a way Jason had never heard before. It had taken him a moment to realize he was hard,  _ painfully _ hard. He’d jerked off that night, furiously trying to think of nothing at all, too turned on to feel shame until he came in rhythm to Roy’s own cries.

The next day Jason had soundproofed his room and tried to forget about it. It worked for a little while, especially after their lives turned into a constant fight for survival. In the mess of it Jason had given up even remembering who he was, let alone anything else.

Then his memories had come back, Kori had left, and Jason was on the road with Roy. 

Sharing space meant having to listen to Roy jerk off every morning in the shower, his wet sounds barely muted. Jason bought earplugs, but it hardly helped. Roy was practically a walking advertisement for a good time. He flirted with everyone, he touched without permission, he leaned on every available surface like he knew the best way to have sex on it. Jason viewed his body like a weapon, and wielded it accordingly. Roy didn’t even seem to know he was doing it, his wants and desires all so close to the surface.

And  _ god _ , Jason wanted to know what those were. 

He bit his lip, glancing down to watch his hand slide through Roy’s hair again. His chest and face felt hot, his dick twitching from the mere memory of desire. He cupped himself tightly through his sweats, trying to get back in control. His eyes snapped shut at the pressure, pain and pleasure warring for a moment.

Jason didn’t know if he made a noise, or if his fingers had tugged at Roy’s hair a little too hard, but when he opened them again he found Roy staring up at him. 

He snatched both hands back like he’d been burned, Roy wincing as a few strands came away between his fingers. The head of his cock rubbed against his sweats and he tried not to squirm.

“If you make fun of me I swear I’ll end you,” Jason said, feeling himself turning pink.

Roy chuckled in response to Jason’s distress, propping himself up on his elbows. There was dried spit in the corner of his mouth. He looked down at the tented fabric of Jason’s sweats, then slowly back up to Jason’s face.

“Why are you like this, Jaybird? ‘I’ll shoot you, I’ll end you,’” Roy sing-songed, which only made Jason blush harder, remembering his earlier empty threats. 

Roy’s eyes turned black at the sight. “You trust me, Jaybird?” he asked, voice thick with hunger.

For once, Jason was glad for the nickname. If Roy had said his actual name it would have made it too serious, too much. Instead, the familiarity calmed him.

“Obviously,” he huffed, rolling his eyes as he fought for composure.

Roy smiled that crooked, promising smile he had. He knelt up on the bed, kicking the sheets to the end before gripping Jason by the thighs, urging him to keep his legs together. 

Jason swallowed.

Roy eyed him fondly. “You know, you’re kind of bratty,” he said. 

“Am not,” Jason retorted automatically.  _ Dammit _ .

Roy beamed, triumphant. He planted one hand on the headboard next to Jason’s ear and then slung one long, freckled leg over his lap. Jason breathed deeply, found his hands automatically going to his waist to keep him steady as he settled, then slid down to his hips. Roy’s other hand came up under his chin, pitching his head back so they were nose to nose.

“Kiss me, Jason,” Roy whispered, and Jason did. It was like before, but lighter somehow, like after talking earlier something heavy and frightening had left the space between them, making room in Jason for this buzzing excitement. Roy’s fingers ran down the front of his chest, tugging at the zipper of the hoodie he was still wearing. Jason let him push the fabric back to expose his chest, but didn’t take it off.

Roy was holding himself above him, keeping their bodies from connecting. Jason had to strain for each press of his lips, licking up into his mouth with the softest of touches. It was nowhere near enough. Jason found his thighs tensing without control, his hands gripping Roy’s hips so hard he was worried he might bruise him. 

“Fuck, you’re so fucking  _ strong _ ,” Roy moaned, tilting a little to the side as Jason twitched beneath him. He gripped Jason’s shoulder tightly, trying to balance himself. Jason shoved a hand underneath Roy’s shirt, spreading his fingers over the smooth muscles there. 

“Take it off,” Roy instructed him. “I want you to touch me, Jaybird.”

Jason surged up, easily yanking the thin tank top off Roy’s broad shoulders. The motion finally gave him what he wanted, their hips slotting together with delicious friction. Roy made a sharp sound, fighting for his balance as the movement tilted him backwards. Jason held him steady, arms sliding up to cup his shoulder blades. Jason leaned forward and finally got his mouth on Roy’s pale, freckled skin, kissing down his throat and over one collarbone.

“Fuck yes,” Roy panted, his hips grinding down. His boxers were old and flimsy, and when Jason glanced down he could see the stain on the front of them, the dark, swollen tip of Roy’s cock peeking out just above the button. Jason felt precum smear inside his sweats, across his belly. It felt filthy and amazing. 

“I want you to tell me what you were thinking,” Roy said, cradling his head with both hands so Jason had to meet his eyes. Roy kissed him, his tongue fucking deep into his mouth as Jason struggled to breathe. “What had you so worked up, Jaybird?”

“You,” Jason said, panting. “This.” It felt like his brain melted with each word. He didn’t know how Roy did it. He could barely think. 

Roy kissed him again. “How’s the reality?” he asked.

“So far? A lot of talk,” Jason managed, nipping at Roy’s bottom lip. 

Roy laughed, loud and cheerful, face lit with a bright smile. It was a sight that always made Jason want to laugh with him, but he bullied his face into a smirk instead. 

“Message received,” Roy snorted, still laughing a little as he pulled back, urging Jason to brace himself against the headboard. His weight was heavy and warm on Jason’s thighs, but not uncomfortable. Roy slid his hands under Jason’s open hoodie, running his hands down his chest and stomach. He didn’t trace the scar, nor did he avoid it--he simply treated it like it was Jason’s regular skin.

Jason let out a breath he didn’t even know he’d been holding. 

“Tell me if you want to keep doing what we’re doing, but I really need to be touching your dick now, Jaybird,” Roy said, tone friendly like he was having a regular conversation. Jason jerked, nodding his head once his brain caught up. 

“I need to hear you say it,” Roy prompted, unyielding. 

Jason glared. “Yes. Do it,” he snapped.

“Obnoxious,” Roy said affectionately, voice ratcheting back up to that promising purr. He kissed him, wet and open like he wanted to devour him, then turned his attention to Jason’s sweats. Roy was gentle as he lifted them up and over his aching cock, giving an appreciative hum as soon as it bobbed free with a wet smack against Jason’s belly. 

Jason swallowed a groan, one hand still braced on the headboard, the other cupping Roy’s side. He chewed on the inside of his cheek as Roy sighed at the sight of his cock, eyes nearly black.

“I don’t know how long I’ll last,” he confessed, watching Roy reach out to touch him.

“I bet. Jesus Jason, you’re  _ so wet _ ,” Roy said, sounding shocked, yet turned on at the same time. He licked his lips.

“Fuck,” Jason hissed, tossing his head as he felt a blush spread over his cheeks again. 

Roy urged Jason to raise his other arm up onto the headboard, then quickly stood up to strip out of his boxers before sliding back into Jason’s lap, this time straddling only one thigh. Jason lost track of everything, distracted by the sight and feel of Roy’s thick cock brushing the edge of hip bone. The head of his own dick bumped into Roy’s stomach as the other man settled in his lap once more. Jason gasped as he felt more precum spill out, slicking Roy’s pale skin. 

“Spread your legs a little,” Roy said, voice soft and rough. Jason complied, rewarded almost immediately by the sensation of Roy’s calloused, clever fingers wrapping around him. He cracked his head against the headboard, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as the stimulation raced through his system.

“Oh fuck, shit,  _ Christ _ ,” he said in quick succession, arms straining as his hands tightened on the headboard. Roy’s hand felt so different, so entirely different Jason couldn’t even find words to explain it. It was like his entire body was connected, every part of him present and writhing the minute Roy touched him, had him vulnerable.

“Don’t think, just relax,” Roy was murmuring against his ear. Jason could feel Roy’s fingers grow slicker, grip strong as he pumped his cock in his large fist. It made Jason feel like his spine was dissolving. “That’s it Jaybird, don’t think, just come for me, okay?”

Jason looked up at him with hooded eyes, trying to breathe. “What, already?” he said, incredulous. His whole body shook as he met Roy’s eyes, saw the desire in them, the cascade of his tousled hair. He looked predatory, golden, and Jason bit back a soft cry as Roy twisted his wrist, his entire body locking up.

“Gonna happen whether you want it or not. You’re so worked up, baby, you’ve gotta let go, c’mon,” Roy said urgently, the words rushing straight to his head. Roy's other hand was suddenly between Jason’s legs as well, sliding to cup his balls, narrow fingertips pressing up behind them. 

“I--fuck!  _ God, _ ” Jason breathed, one hand coming down to pull Roy close to him as he came, fingers tangled desperately in his hair.

“Yes Jason-- _ fuck _ baby, just like that. I’ve got you.” Roy encouraged, lips hot against his neck, but Jason couldn’t hear past the roar in his ears, world reduced to nothing but the feel of Roy’s body against his and the pleasure rushing through him. Roy worked him through it, mouthing up to capture Jason’s lips in a messy kiss as he gasped for air. 

Jason went boneless, shoulders hitting the headboard behind him with an audible thud. Roy followed him down, pressing him into the sheets as he lapped hungrily at Jason’s mouth. His arms had collapsed on the pillows, and Jason’s eyes flew open as Roy’s hand scooped up both his wrists, holding his hands above his head.

Jason glanced down to see Roy’s fingers curled around his cock. The dark head dripped with each slow slide of his fist, steady and ruthless. Jason could feel the wet heat of precum against his stomach, adding to the messy slick he’d left there. He wanted to touch it, wrists flexing uselessly in Roy’s tight grip.

He felt like he was floating.

Roy’s green eyes bore into him. “Tell me again, Jason. Tell me what you were thinking of. Tell me  _ more _ .”

“I could hear you,” Jason murmured. It was so easy to say, suddenly, watching Roy shudder above him. “I heard you and Kori all the time.”

“ _ Jesus Christ _ ,” Roy breathed, eyes squeezing shut. His back bowed and their hips snapped together, making Jason moan. He watched Roy try to bite back his own soft cry, fascinated.

Inspired, Jason lifted his hips, his sensitive cock brushing Roy’s knuckles. The overstimulation knocked the wind out of him, turning his next words ragged, “I can’t stop hearing you.”

“ _ Shit _ ,” Roy gasped, eyes flying open. His fingers clamped down hard on Jason’s wrists as he came, come splashing over Jason’s flat stomach in waves. After a few seconds Roy’s arm gave out, collapsing onto his elbow as he helplessly writhed against him. Freed, Jason wrapped his arms around Roy’s shoulders, gentling him through it.

Jason didn’t know how long they laid there, too sated and calm to care. Roy was a welcome weight on his chest, face tucked against his neck as he struggled to catch his breath. It gave Jason time to run his hands up and down Roy’s strong back, reveling in the closeness of him.

“I think you broke my brain,” Roy complained after a while, voice muffled.

Jason hummed, content, fingers playing with the ends of his hair. 

“Or maybe I broke yours,” Roy mumbled. He rolled off to the side, propping himself up on one elbow. Jason shivered as he felt Roy’s fingers slide through the messy slick on his stomach, arms falling to his sides. 

Roy raised two wet fingers to Jason’s lips watching him carefully as he pushed them inside. Jason let him, never one to back down, sighing with relief. It wasn’t the bitter taste he’d been fearing, some unknown ghost from his past, just a simple, earthy tang against his tongue. Roy pressed his fingers down, and Jason instinctively sucked, feeling a thrill run up his spine at the filthiness of it all.

Roy pulled his fingers back with an obscene pop. Jason watched as he lifted his hand to his mouth, tasting his fingertips before sucking his thumb into his mouth, swallowing the last of their mixed come. Those blonde eyelashes fluttered as he did so, and Jason felt his spent dick twitch against his thigh at the sight.

“You’re going to kill me, Jaybird,” Roy groaned, noticing, leaning down to kiss him before collapsing on the mattress. “Jesus Christ, that was good,” he said, flinging an arm dramatically over his eyes as he tried to catch his breath. 

Jason patted his freckled hip. “Mmmph,” he agreed, brain still comfortably empty. 

Roy flipped onto his side after a second, giving Jason a once over, taking in the content expression on his face. He reached out, and Jason closed his eyes as he felt fingers in his hair.

“How you feeling, Jaybird? You still alive in there?” Roy said, his voice curious. 

“Shut up and bask, Harper,” Jason grumbled, trying to do just that. Roy snickered, but eventually the fingers slowed down and Roy went quiet, dozing off. After a moment Jason opened his eyes, wanting his turn to look.

Roy was much more relaxed than he’d been before, and Jason took in the sated, happy expression on his sleeping face with no small amount of pride. Jason wondered if he was supposed to feel different now, but he didn’t. He thought maybe that was a good thing.

Unable to sleep, Jason eventually got up and rinsed off in the shower. He spied Roy’s stash of snack foods and helped himself to a soda and pretzels before setting to work cleaning up their remaining gear and weaponry. He wasn’t as efficient as he usually was, distracted by the sight of Roy naked and sprawling in the other bed, fast asleep and blissful.

Just when Jason was thinking of waking Roy up, the laptop chimed, signaling that Roy’s program had run its course and unlocked the hard drive. Jason padded over and sat down, eyes growing wide as he read through the documents there.

Apparently, there was more than just a formula for metahuman enhancing serum in here--there was evidence that it had already been made, had already been  _ tested _ .

It was bad. There was voluntary, weird science military experimentation and then there was...this. Images of young men and women flicked across the screen, each more gruesome than the last. Jason was no stranger to the atrocities human beings could commit in the service of something greater, and this wasn’t it. This felt malevolent and dark. 

There was no way Roy was going to be okay with this. He was going to have to make a choice between that white hat mentality and actual morality. 

Jason let out a long sigh, and got to work.

///


	6. Chapter 6

**in nebraska, you can still be happy: six**

Roy woke with a start, sitting up abruptly. He couldn’t believe he’d dozed off so completely, but apparently there was a first time for everything. God,  _ first times _ . Jason had obviously been a little overwhelmed earlier, judging by how quickly he’d fallen apart in Roy’s hands, and Roy had gone and passed out on him.

Speaking of Jason, where was he? The bed was cold beside him, and Roy wrapped a sheet around his shoulders.

“Jaybird?” he asked, looking around the room.

Everything had been tidied up, duffel bags in a neat row on top of the other queen bed. Even the laptop had been packed away. Confused, Roy stumbled out of the bed, grimacing at the sticky feeling on his chest and stomach. He really needed a shower.

Jason was nowhere to be seen. 

Uneasy, Roy’s training took over and he checked the room for any immediate signs of a fight, but came up empty. He did notice a small slip of paper on the desk where his laptop had been, and picked it up cautiously. Jason’s neat, blocky handwriting stared up at him.

_ Everything’s fine. I’ll explain when I get back. Be ready to move. _

_ Be ready to move _ was code for masks. Roy’s heart rate sped up, staring dumbly at the note. He was torn, worried he’d somehow chased Jason off, or maybe there a sudden threat had appeared while he’d been sleeping through the afterglow. God, what had he been  _ thinking? _

He hadn’t been thinking, that was the problem. Roy had woken up to the sight of Jason’s hand wrapped around his own dick and his brain had flown right out the window and into the Nebraskan sky, never to be seen again. Had he called him baby? Did he really call the fucking Red Hood  _ baby? _

When Jason got back Roy was never going to hear the end of it. 

Which, Jason had said he was coming back, and Roy had to trust him. He waffled for another thirty seconds, then dutifully trudged into the bathroom to get cleaned up. The hot shower helped clear his head. He wrapped his hair in a towel and dressed in his Arsenal gear, newly cleaned and left for him on the chair.

He dried his hair as he waited, snacking idly on a few candy bars to get his energy level up. A quick perusal of their bags told him Jason had taken the recovered hard drive with him, leaving bad taste in Roy’s mouth. Jason rarely did anything without reason, but Roy didn’t appreciate being left in the dark.

His irritation grew the longer he waited. Roy found himself looking out the window, watching over the snow-covered parking lot for any signs of Jason. The blizzard had passed, the early evening sky pale pink against the snow as the sun started to set. Roy spotted a few dedicated souls shoveling the sidewalks, bundled up in puffy snowsuits.

Just when his resolve had nearly crumbled, desperate to break radio silence and text Jason to see where he was, the hotel door flew open. Roy turned sharply, body tensing for an attack, but stilled as he saw Jason stomp into the room. His boots and jacket were wet, hair wild and cheeks red from the cold.

“What the fuck, Jaybird?” he asked, crossing his arms. “What’s going on?”

“Sorry, I went as fast as I could,” Jason replied, shaking his head like a wet dog. He took in Roy’s defensive posture with a raised eyebrow. Roy answered with one of his own, gesturing at the packed gear and Jason’s own disheveled appearance. He looked like he’d been fighting.

“I’ll explain everything in the car,” Jason promised, raising his hands up in surrender. He offered Roy a small, reassuring smile.

“You fucking better,” Roy told him after a moment. 

Jason squeezed his shoulder. “C’mon.”

He helped Jason with their bags, pulling on a thick denim jacket to cover his costume as they loaded the car. The temperature outside was freezing, the coming night air cold enough it nearly hurt to breathe. Wherever Jason had gone, he’d taken their borrowed Jeep, and the interior of it was still warm.

“Here,” Jason said as they buckled themselves in, handing over a tablet. Roy eyed him, confused, but unlocked it as Jason started up the car. He tapped on one of the files, recognition setting in as he read through the information there.

This was what had been on the drive. The drive he’d agreed to recover and turn over without asking too many questions. Roy had known he wouldn’t like most of the information stored there, but he hadn’t been prepared for this.

Roy let out a soft sound as his fingers flew over the screen, horror welling up inside him as he read. Picture after picture flicked past his eyes. Some of them had  _ kids _ in them, sure, they were teenagers and freshly eighteen, but Roy remembered how naive and trusting he’d been at age. 

Roy glanced up at Jason, taking in the hard line of his jaw.

“Jaybird, we... _ I _ can’t...what are we going to do?” he whispered, voice breaking a little. He could feel panic starting to well up inside him, brain spiralling suddenly and rapidly.

Jason downshifted, navigating the unplowed roads. “What do you want to do?”

Roy dropped the tablet, covering his eyes with both of his hands. He’d started up this entire venture with the best of intentions, and now they were on the road to hell. He thought of Jason standing outside the Well of Sins, teary-eyed but triumphant, declaring to the world that they were going to do something  _ good _ . Roy had thought going legitimate would be the way to do that, to give him that.

Fuck. How did he always fuck this shit up? This was the  _ government _ . Of course there were shady dealings and morally dubious programs but this...this was systemic, this was mad science that was turning people into monsters if they lived, and most of them didn’t, turned inside out and dying slowly, writhing in pain. 

Roy knew, immediately, that he couldn’t give the drive back. He didn’t know how he was going to stop the rest of it, but he couldn’t be party to it. And if they reneged on this job, that meant Red Hood & Arsenal were over. It would delegitimize anything they might try for in the future. 

He’d failed. He’d failed at trying to do the right thing.

And now it was going to cost him everything. It might even cost him Jason.

“I can’t,” he ground out, trying not to hyperventilate. He pressed the heel of his hands harder against his eyes, seeing stars. “I can’t give them the drive, Jaybird,” he confessed.

“Are you sure? I need you to be sure.” Jason rumbled beside him. Christ, Roy thought he might actually start to cry. 

He could say no. He could compromise, try to hold onto this a little longer. He thought of Jason earlier, spread out under him, content and open in a way he almost never got to see. 

Roy knew he wasn’t going to.

“Yes,” he ground out, miserable, pulling himself together through sheer resignation. He dropped his hands into his lap, but couldn’t bring himself to look at Jason yet, for it to be real.

“I thought you’d say that,” Jason said softly. He reached out, one hand cupping Roy’s knee, squeezing gently. Roy turned his head to look out the window, brushing one hand surreptitiously over his eyes. He was too upset to speak, staring numbly as the snow-covered rooftops gave way to fields. 

Suddenly, he recognized the route Jason was taking, remembered driving it himself not twenty-four hours ago. It distracted him from his pounding head and aching heart.

“Jason?” he asked, turning to look out the windshield. A familiar pair of buildings rose up in front of them, the Cale-Anderson Pharmaceutical emblem burning yellow between the white snow and dark sky.

Jason pulled the Jeep over, parking near the fence that lined the compound. “C’mon Harper, get out of the car,” he said gruffly, sliding out of the driver’s seat. 

Roy hesitated but did as he was asked, boots crunching in the soft snow as he followed Jason to the fence. There was a neat gap in the chainlink and they both shouldered their way through it. 

“Isn’t someone going to see us?” Roy asked, watching Jason march across the open field. He stopped a good distance away from the building, gesturing for Roy to follow him.

“It’s Christmas Eve,” Jason answered, as Roy stepped up beside him. “They only had a skeleton crew after everything we put them through yesterday, and those boys are resting nice and happy a few miles up the road, safe as houses.”

Roy didn’t know what that meant, but he imagined it probably included a lot of bruising judging by Jason’s dangerous grin. 

“Wait, this is where you went?” Roy asked, watching as Jason pulled out a small can of lighter fluid from his pocket, then the black box that contained the stolen hard drive. “Jason, what’s going on?”

“We’re not giving the drive back,” Jason said simply. He tossed the drive in the snow between their feet, sprinkling it liberally with lighter fluid. Roy stared, uncomprehending, numbly accepting the lighter Jason pushed into his fingers. 

“Earth to Harper,” Jason said, smiling patiently. His strong, black brows were furrowed, clearly trying to parse Roy’s confused expression.

“If we do this…” Roy trailed off, struggling to catch up. Was Jason serious? What the fuck was  _ going on? _ He didn’t seem to be having the same internal crisis Roy was having.

“It doesn’t change anything,” Jason said, reading the worry on Roy’s face. “We can still keep working together, Roy. We’re just going to do it on our own terms, like before.”

“You said you wanted to do good,” Roy bit out, overwhelmed. He shivered in the cold, fingers still frozen around the cool steel of Jason’s lighter.  _ I wanted that for you _ , he didn’t say.

Jason’s expression went soft. He reached out, taking Roy’s hand both of his. He flicked the lighter open, the flame bright orange in their grip. 

“And you told me you wanted to do what’s right,” Jason told him solemnly. “You can’t tell me this isn’t the right thing to do, Roy. You know it isn’t.”

“No, it’s not,” Roy agreed, and now his face felt hot, like he might actually cry this time. 

He pulled himself together at the last second, taking a deep breath as he stared into Jason’s eyes. He dropped the lighter, watching the bright flash near his toes as the hard drive caught on fire. He stepped around the small flames, coming to Jason’s side. Jason slung an arm around his shoulders and the two of them watched the drive shrivel and melt, reduced to nothing but a black pile of ash in the snow. 

It looked like a lump of coal, Roy thought hysterically.

“This won’t fix it. It’s more than just this drive, Jaybird,” he said, looking across the snowy field to the buildings in front of them.

“I know,” Jason said. He pulled a dark rectangle out of another pocket, then handed it to Roy. 

“Is this one of my detonators?” Roy asked, incredulous. He turned it over in his hand, carefully avoiding the trigger that would arm it. The red button at one end stared up at him like a knowing eye.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Jason explained. “You’re going to press that button, and those two buildings are going to be blown sky high. It’s Cale-Anderson’s main lab and warehouse, they tucked it out here in Nebraska hoping no one would notice. The minute you press that button, emails will be sent out to every shareholder in the company detailing all the naughty things their board members have been up to for the last six years. And then, to top it off, everything on this drive will be leaked to the press courtesy of Barbara. The public outrage should take care of the rest,” he finished.

“You did all that in a few hours?” Roy whispered, awestruck, numb with revelation. Jason’s blue-green eyes flashed with satisfaction at the question, and a small smile crept across his face.

“No, it took me a few hours to set all the charges. Everything else I planned the minute we took this mission,” he confessed. Jason raised a hand and pushed it through Roy’s hair, cupping his face. “You were never going to be okay with this, Roy. You’re too good.”

“Shut the fuck up, you’re going to make me cry you asshole,” Roy said, and he really was, he could feel the tears in his eyes and his breath hitched as he struggled to stay calm. 

Jason ran a thumb over Roy’s cheekbone. “C’mon, Harper, get it together. What do you say?”

Roy sniffled. Jason  _ fucking _ Todd. How he had ever fallen in with this beautiful, competent, ruthless man escaped him. He was gorgeous against the snow, dressed in black and leather, two spots of color high on his cheeks.

“Well,” Roy tried, glancing at the buildings and then back Jason’s handsome face. Roy rallied, offering him a watery smile. He said, “I’ve always wanted to make out with someone while stuff explodes in the background.”

Jason laughed, surprised, before his smile turned promising. “What are you waiting for then?”

Roy flipped the switch, hand curling around the detonator. He stepped up into Jason’s space, feeling warm hands settle around his hips. He curled his free arm around Jason’s neck, tilting his chin up. Jason bent to meet him, his nose cold against Roy’s cheek.

“Merry Christmas, Roy,” Jason said, kissing him deeply. 

He pressed the button.

Orange and red lit up the night sky, snow glittering in the air at the force of the detonation. Sonic booms shook the ground, heat and wind whipping past Roy’s face, but he didn’t care. He watched as the buildings crumbled in on themselves, his own heart exploding with them, something dangerous and bright as joy filling his chest.

“Come to Gotham with me,” Jason grunted, fingers tangled in Roy’s hair, lips skating over his jawline.

“Anything,” Roy whispered, and he meant it.

///

****And Merry Christmas!

This is all I have written so far, but I plan on doing more (seriously, I've mapped out up through City of Bane, I have a problem). Subscribe to the series for updates!

Thanks for all the kudos, comments, and well-wishes, I appreciate them so much!


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